Selfish, Selfish
by FairyLights101
Summary: Selfish. A word Levi never thought would apply to him and yet it did, somehow, becoming intertwined with his very being until it was no longer capable of being separated. Sometimes he wondered why, how it had happened. Then he remembered.


Selfish.

A word Levi never thought would apply to him and yet it did, somehow, becoming intertwined with his very being until it was no longer capable of being separated. Sometimes he wondered why, how it had happened. Then he remembered.

Typically that remembrance came when his fingers tangled into silky, wild coffee-colored hair that his hands somehow always found their way to in the end, whether he was doing paperwork in his office and Eren was slumped over his desk as he drowsed in and out of sleep, lulled off by the scratching of Levi's pen, or when they were curled up in bed together, bodies drenched in sweat or not, and they resided between those sheets in a comfortable silence, the kind that Levi wanted to fill with words but never quite could, his tongue tied and his teeth locked together.

It came when he saw those big, faultless, limitless eyes that never seemed to be the same color twice, going from a stormy gray like his own to a bright blue, kind of like the sky, to a green that could put emeralds and pieces of jade to shame. The eyes that were still innocent despite the horrors of the world, ones that were filled with hope and _life_ , the kind that could never be quenched. The eyes that saw the truth.

With his scent as well, a clean smell of fresh linens and cleaning products that had become ingrained on him, mixing with that natural musk. The scent of sweat and love as they came together under the shroud of darkness when there was no one to witness, no one to judge, none to condemn them. The smell that lured Levi to sleep and eased him awake early in the morning when dawn was just breaking, giving him ample time to watch the steady rise and fall of that tan, lithe body that was steadily filling out and developing, no longer slender but not bulky either, or to watch how his eyes fluttered as he waded through dreams that would never be remembered.

Touches as well. Innocent ones, little brushes of the backs of their hands or an arm slung over his shoulders or secretive hand holding under the table. Quicker, more intimate ones, like ruffles of hair in the stables or swift hugs - typically initiated by Eren - or even swifter kisses that Levi jerked Eren down for, too impatient and nervous to wait as he pecked his cheeks, nose, forehead, lips, saving the most intimate for the room, the office. When they could finally hold each other in their arms and not let go until it was absolutely necessary.

But most of all, it was that smile that made him remember the best. Despite it all - watching comrades and friends be devoured and killed, some left as nothing but bloody smears, or suffering through bouts of self-doubt and hatred and fear, or having a gun pressed to his temple as a madman raved above him, shrieking about how he was the core of the problem, him and his family, and that by killing him they would be rid of the Titan infestation - he had never lost it. Not even when he had watched Armin be swallowed whole and pulled him out, cradling him in his arms as the too-young blond died slowly, agonizingly, from a blade he had fallen onto in the pits of the Titan's stomach. It had disappeared, yes, but it had come back eventually.

That smile lit everything up, made Levi find some scrap of hope and peace and happiness, things he thought had lost long, long ago, and clind to it, a buoy to his drowning self. Sometimes it even drew a smile of his own out and that would only make Eren's lips stretch wider, Levi's heart fluttering with every damn millimeter that it grew until it felt like he was having heart palpitations, or something pretty damn close anyway.

Maybe all of that was why he was selfish. So fucking _selfish_.

Until Eren had come along, how long had it been since someone had touched him for more than desperate, heated sex? Too long, that was certain. Years and years. Maybe never. Certainly not since his mother had passed and those memories were faded, hazy with the veil of years gone by.

Perhaps that was why when he woke up early on those mornings with the pre-dawn light painting Eren with delicate yellows and pinks those thoughts came in. The ones that told him to never let him go, to never let him escape the bed. That they could lay there all fucking day, the Legion and responsibilities be damned. He'd nearly done it before, sometimes not waking Eren up until it was nearly too late for him to get ready on time, sometimes clinging to him and forcing him to remain until he begrudgingly released him at Eren's insistence that yes, they did need to get up and yes, he would get as many cuddles as he wanted that night.

Truly, he was a sucker for Eren. Completely head over heels. So selfish that it was a miracle he could function, even more so that he ever let go of Eren.

Then again, Eren was one of the few bright spots in his life. The only thing that truly made the world light up and come to life, the way it had when he had soared through the air with Isabel and Farlan, fresh air in their lungs and actual sunlight and wind touching them. That could have been the reason he was so hopelessly selfish.

Not selfish in the way that made him lack the consideration of others, but the kind that made him want to have Eren in his arms only. To never let him out of his sight or spend more time with others than they did with each other. But he bit that monster back and allowed some distance between them when needed. Distance so that Eren could be a child, then a teenager, then a young man. He would never truly be one of them - the shifting powers separated him too much for that - but he could still be close and fit in, nearly one of them in all senses but that.

He would always have a place. A place with his fellow trainees. A place in the Legion. In the minds of those who supports the Legion, who gave a damn about the survival of humanity. In Levi's heart. In his arms.

 _I never should have let you go_.

They had talked about making a place together, a place just for them. Not yet but when the Titans were gone. They'd travel as long as it took to get to the ocean, day and night, until they glimpsed those shores and saw the sights Eren forever babbled about, though Levi couldn't begrudge him for it. Not when his eyes lit up brighter than the stars that painted the night sky overhead. So they had promised to go there. Together.

They would build a cabin, one made by their own hands, one with a pasture for the horses and a farm, one big enough to bring in a decent amount of crops. Too bad Levi couldn't guarantee he would actually touch the stuff - it was dirty work, but Eren would doubtlessly coerce him out into the fields. They could swim on warmer days, paddle around that endless stretch of salty water until they crawled back onto the beach and slept there in the dying sunlight, all reds and golds and oranges painted across them. Well, that was how Levi imagined it would be. Kind of like the sunsets on the few lakes he had been to.

"Hey, Eren… We could get a cat too. I don't give a shit if it sheds or not at this point. You want 'em so bad, I'm sure you'd bring 'em anyway."

He would. Hell, Eren had done it before, sneaking in a litter of five tiny little kittens, barely old enough to have their eyes open, let alone be weaned. One had tied that night but with the help of his fellow Scouts they had managed to get the other four to survive. They had made excellent mousers, which was practically the only reason that Levi had ever tolerated them. That and the way his entire being had lit up whenever he scooped one into his arms. The way Levi did with him.

 _I'm sorry_.

They'd sit by a fire, cozy under blankets and with Eren's natural above-average body heat warming them alongside the fire as he cradled a book in his hands. Eren hadn't learned how to read until he had joined the Legion, a fact that often amazed Levi considering how even recruits had to write papers from time to time. But he had taught Eren as he himself had been taught, guiding him through it until it was Eren who read to him at night, lulling him into an early slumber rather than the other way around.

They had it all planned out, every last detail.

Nothing could have gone wrong.

Everything would have been perfect.

They would have been happy, so fucking happy. And Levi… Well, Levi could have been as selfish as he wanted to, holding Eren tight and never letting go, not for a second.

 _But I did._

And maybe that had been his biggest mistake, ever letting Eren out of his arms in the first place. Or rather, there were several mistakes, crippling ones that he had been blind to for the most part. He should have trained Eren better. He should have kept him at an arm's distance, not let him get so close. He should have told him to be more cautious, less rash. Should've, should've, should've. There were a lot of things he should have done. He hadn't done a single damn one.

And look where that had gotten him. Them. Eren.

It had gotten him, them, a bloody, broken body cradled in his arms, one arm limp on the ground, his hand half-curled and pointing to the sky. Those ever-shifting eyes wide open, blank and unseeing, the gold-green they had been in the end glossy with the creeping haze of death. His face slack, a smile never to grace those sweet, blood-stained lips ever again.

He didn't want to see his face, so empty and devoid of everything he had ever come to love, but he had pulled their foreheads apart at some point, certainly long after Eren had ceased to breathe, after his heart had stopped all beating. He couldn't bear to not look at it, touch it.

A trembling thumb swept across Eren's cheek, brushing at the dried blood that flaked off, just a little, then started to run as a lonesome tear dripped from one face to the other. It ran down Eren's cheek, the ones that had lost all their baby fat years ago when Eren had shot up nearly a foot, losing those babyish curves in exchange for solid muscles.

He had still been soft in some ways. Certainly warm, no matter what size.

But that warmth was gone, spirited away at some point by the cruel claws of death.

A dream. It had to be. But no matter how many times Levi pinched himself, leaving bloody smears on his skin and clothes, he didn't wake up. He could hear them talking behind him, quiet murmurs that he occasionally understood.

"Corporal Levi, he-"

"-shot from point blank range. As-"

"-never even started healing. Likely poison-"

"-ninety minutes-"

"Should we remove the body? It-"

"Leave them be!"

Ah, a familiar voice. Hanji. They knew. _They_ understood.

A warm hand settled on his shoulder, gentle and hesitant. He didn't look up, couldn't. Not when he still had so much of Eren to drink in, so many things to memorize. He had to imprint on his brain the placement of his freckles, faint against the deeply tanned skin, that dotted cheeks. The exact length of his eyelashes, the curvature of his brows. Those glassy eyes, still beautiful despite how woefully blank they were.

"Levi… Levi, I'm so sorry but you have to get up now. We can't leave him here."

He finally looked up then, looked at the mad scientist who had been his best friend for God knew how many years. The only one left. Mike, Nanaba, Moblit, Erwin, his squad… Everyone had disappeared except for Hanji. And now Eren had too.

Watery gray eyes danced as he tugged Eren a little closer. He couldn't let him go, not again. That had happened, just for a second, just so he could knock on a store window to tell Hanji that yes, they had to fucking hurry up, and Eren had gotten the muzzle of a gun pressed to his stomach before he could turn around. He had let Eren go for no more than ten seconds and had frozen, feet rooted to the pavement, as he watched it all crumble apart from the reflection in the window.

How Eren's eyes had widened, outrage and dread and wry comprehension flashing across his face.

How he had held his hands up, said something that was lost in the din of the crowd.

How that meaty finger pulled the trigger.

Eren had staggered back, looked down for a moment, and as Levi whipped around he crumpled, the street behind him painted with guts and gore, the crowd around them shrieking as he wrestled the assassin to the ground, pistol-whipped him, strangled him until Hanji had torn him away, yelling at him to go to Eren.

Too late. He would have always been too late.

 _I never should have let you go_.

A wavering smile tugged at Levi's lips, more than a little hysterical as his bloody hand tightened over Eren's stilled abdomen. "Hanji… we never got to see the ocean. He never got to see it."

And dammit, with that hollowing realization sitting in his chest, Levi gave up. He embraced the selfishness, welcomed it like an old friend. He hadn't been anywhere near selfish enough.


End file.
